


Bright And Warm

by LipstickAndWhiskey (CopperMarigolds)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Language, protective!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 12:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11532051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperMarigolds/pseuds/LipstickAndWhiskey
Summary: Dean never was one for relationships. He always messed it all up one way or another, but just this once, he hopes he can do something right.





	Bright And Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Part of @whispersandwhiskerburn’s 2k Follower Celebration on tumblr. Prompt: “Must Be Doing Something Right” Billy Currington + “Yes. Anything, just… yes…” I slightly modified the dialogue prompt since I thought it worked a little better the way I used it. This is different than my other stuff, so let me know what you think!!

(Gif source: [x](http://ohmysupernatural.tumblr.com/post/159936198914))

Dean never was one for relationships. Sooner or later the shit hit the fan, and he was left with what was left of his heart shattered whenever it fell to bits. It happened with Cassie, and it happened with Lisa. It happened every time he let himself believe that he could manage to not fuck up something good in his life.  _Someone_  good in his life.

Then he met you.

He and Sam were on a hunt, looking for some cursed item at a charity gala of all places. It was a stuffy affair, especially since he hated being stuck in a penguin suit, but the moment his eyes landed on you he forgot about it all. He knew it sounded cheesy and cliché- hell, it sounded like some Hallmark chick-flick, but the moment he saw you, he knew you were special. You wore a simple black dress, far less adorned than any of the other women, and a simple pair of heels. He’d watched as you browsed the items on exhibit, a glass of champagne in your hand as you walked with intent. You’d stopped at some ancient-looking vase, stopping to read the card when Sam came up to him.

Sam had apparently read all about some killer vase before, and was  _sure_  that this was that long-lost vase. Dean’s eyes never left yours though, as you looked from the vase to the phone you’d pulled from your small purse. You clicked something on your phone that he was  _sure_  was the reason why several of the cars parked outside had gone off. It was at that moment that he knew you were a hunter too.

He’d acted quickly, helping you pry open the glass case, leaving you a little startled but thankful for the help nonetheless. He’d learned later that evening as you stowed the vase in a warded lockbox you’d designed yourself, that Bobby had actually turned you onto the case. He tried bribing you with pie and coffee at the local diner in an effort to keep you around a little longer, but you were too eager to get a jump on your next case. You left him in a cloud of dust that day, and that was only the beginning.

Dean wanted to know more about you. He’d bugged Bobby incessantly with his questions about you- where you came from, how Bobby knew you, and what you were like. Bobby grumbled and answered his questions, surprisingly patient with Dean’s prattle. He finally broke though, telling him to just go offer his help on a new case he’d just handed off to you.

He and Sam found you in a small town in Minnesota, holed up in a tiny motel. He was glad he’d dragged Sam out after getting an earful about chasing after some girl on the ride over, especially since there were far more vamps in the nest than you or Bobby first anticipated. Hell, there were more vamps than he’d seen in nearly any nest before. It was after you’d taken a nice hit to your side, the hunt long over but adrenaline still lingering that he found you standing in the cool night air outside of the motel. Your hands braced against the rusty railing and breathing stinted, you took deep, gasping breaths of the prickly air. He knew the look you wore well, the same look he had when he looked in the mirror after some of the tougher days. He was at a loss. Words failed him, and he didn’t want to scare you off, so he did all he could think of. He let his hand cover one of your own, enveloping it in his heat. He watched as you stilled, your shoulders slumping as a sigh left your lips. 

‘Thank you’ was all that you said that night.

From then on, you hunted with them. Dean invited you to stay with them for their next hunt, and the next after that one was over. Two hunts quickly turned to three and so on, the three of you becoming quickly inseparable. Dean became even more enamored with you- the way your hair looked in the morning, the way you bit into your lip when you were focused, even the way you teased him made his heart do somersaults. Sam teased him for it of course, taking every opportunity to send him a smug look as he caved to anything and everything you wanted.

It was a human, of all things, that managed to crack that hard hunter exterior he’d come to know so well. He was just some asshole who thought he could muscle his way into your pants. The moment he’d grabbed your arm with little to no care at all, Dean saw red. He saw the way you ducked away from the man, flinching as his hand raised in the air. Dean caught it easily though, turning it up and behind his back as he pressed him to the wood bartop. He threatened him, some version of 'touch her and die’, before sending him on his way. He led you to a quieter part of the bar, checking on you.

“I just wanna go, Dean. Please, can we just go?”

That’s all it took for him to leave Sam at the bar with the pretty brunette who’d been making eyes at him all night long. It was a quick drive to the town motel, and it was even quicker for the two of you to get ready for bed. Since Sam was unlikely to come back to the motel, Dean was going to take the other twin bed. That was, until he saw the way you were laying in bed. You laid stiffly under the covers, and that’s what made him slide under them with you. You looked up at him, beautiful, so beautiful that his heart hurt as he watched your eyes mist over. He said nothing, just scooped you up into his arms, hoping that just once he could do something right.

You scooted in closer, curves pressed in close to his harder planes as he curled in protectively around you. You sighed, your head pressed in under his jaw as he held you that night. When he awoke that morning, your legs tangled with his, something he hadn’t felt in years unfurled bright and warm in his chest. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, a soft smile on your face in the warm early morning sun. Letting his fingers trail over your face, he pushed a few stray strands of hair back as he leaned in. He kissed you that morning, easily the best kiss he’d ever had as your lips worked over his own, echoing his thundering heartbeat.

That day he offered to do anything you wanted, anything at all. He’d gladly go where you led, letting you show him the way. You’d just smiled and told him to drive.

“How about we just drive until we see the world’s largest ball of twine, or whatever else you like,” he offered.

**“Yes. Anywhere, just… _yes_ …”**

If your smile was anything to go by, he knew he was on the right road, doing  _something_ right.


End file.
